The answer is . . . it depends on who you ask and how you ask the question! And sometimes the same person will give two different answers!

First a small personal admission: I don’t think I ever saw a black Catholic priest until I was well into my adulthood. I guess I assumed that there were some somewhere; I just never thought that much about it.

The leading contenders are Father James Healy (1830-1900), ordained 1854; and Father Augustine Tolton (1854-1897), ordained 1886.

The simple genealogical data would seem conclusive: James Healy was the first African-American priest. But it’s not quite that simple.

The 1830 census of Jones County, Georgia, helps tell part of the story. That census shows a household that consists of a single white man and a number of slaves. Despite the characterization on the census, the slaves are in fact Michael Healy’s wife and children. According to Africana: The Encyclopedia of the African and African-American Experience, co-authored by Henry Louis Gates, Jr., Michael Healy had been an Irish soldier in the British Army who deserted in the War of 1812. He eventually made his way to Georgia where he acquired land and slaves. He began a relationship with a slave named Mary Eliza Smith and had children with her. Some reports claim that Healy and Mary Eliza were married by an itinerant preacher. Such a marriage would have been illegal under Georgia law at the time.

Michael Healy acknowledged his children and was concerned for their welfare and education. He arranged for Mary Eliza and three of their sons, Hugh, Patrick, and James, to be sent north so that the boys could be educated.

The Healy sons were enrolled in a Quaker school in New York State. Sometime later, they transferred to Holy Cross College in Massachusetts. James was the valedictorian of the 1849 graduating class. While at Holy Cross, James felt the call to the priesthood.

Bishop James Augustine Healy

Blacks were not admitted to American seminaries at the time, so James went first to a Canadian seminary in Montreal and then to the Sulpician seminary in Paris. In 1854 in Paris, he was ordained a priest of the Boston diocese. Healy spent some time as secretary to the bishop and then as an assistant pastor. In 1866, he became pastor of St James Church, the largest parish in Boston.

Father Healy was a strong spokesman for Catholics in what was then a hostile environment. His work at St James led to his being selected as bishop of Portland, Maine, in 1875.

Many parishioners apparently did not realize that the light-skinned Father Healy was of African descent. He did not particularly make that fact known. For several years, he declined to attend the Congress of Colored Catholics, expressing the view that, “We are of that Church where there is neither Gentile nor Jew, circumcision nor uncircumcision, barbarian nor Scythian, slave nor freeman, but Christ is all and in all.”

Some African-Americans and others accuse Father Healy of forfeiting his relationship with the black community by not explicitly acknowledging his background.

Father Augustine Tolton was born in 1854, the same year Bishop Healy was ordained. He was born in Ralls County, Missouri, the son of slaves. Some reports say that his father left the family to join the Union Army, but my cursory search found no evidence of that. In any event, during the Civil War, the family escaped slavery and moved to Illinois, a free state. One report claims that the slave owner, a man named Elliott, actually freed the Tolton family. An extension of that story and likely apocryphal, says that upon being freed, young Augustine was baptized in the waters of Brush Creek, with Mrs. Elliott as his godmother.

The family ended up in Quincy, Illinois. Augustine attended Catholic schools in Quincy and heard the call to Holy Orders. But black men still were not permitted to attend American seminaries. In 1880, he went to Rome to attend seminary. He was ordained in 1886 and returned to the diocese of Alton, Illinois.

Father Tolton became well-known in Illinois and was either loved or hated. At some point, he was transferred to Chicago. Some say this move can as the result of the antipathy of a white priest in the diocese.

In Chicago, Father Tolton initially was assigned to a basement church that later became known as St Monica’s. His reputation grew and he did not hesitate to travel and speak to various groups of Catholics. Unlike Bishop Healy, Father Tolton attended and spoke at the 1890 Congress of Colored Catholics.

Father Tolton died of heat stroke in 1897, at the age of 43.

So who is considered the first black priest in America? Some say it can’t be Bishop Healy, because he never “proclaimed” himself black. Less charitable folks say that Healy was “passing.” But by the racial rules in place then and now (although different “rules” now) Bishop Healy is properly considered the first man of African-American ancestry to be ordained a priest. Father Tolton is properly considered to be the first man with two slave parents to be ordained a priest.

But, wait! There’s a third candidate!

When I was in my 20s, my dad began the practice of sending me a calendar every year from an order of priests called the Josephites. This is an order of priests, officially known as the St. Joseph Society of the Sacred Heart, formed in 1893 to minister to African-Americans. The man given credit for leading the founding of the Josephites was Father Charles Randolph Uncles, a native of Baltimore. November 8 will mark the 152nd anniversary of Father Uncles’ birth in 1859.

Father Charles Randolph Uncles (1859-1933)

So, given what we know about Frs. Healy and Tolton, where does Father Uncles fit in? His parents, Lorenzo Uncles and Annie Marie Buchanan, both had been slaves. Charles Randolph Uncles was ordained in 1891 –after both Healy and Tolton had been ordained. But remember, it depends upon how you ask the question. Uncles was ordained in New York City. Both Healy and Tolton, though Americans, could not attend seminary in the United States because of racism and therefore were ordained outside the United States. So Father Uncles rightfully can be called the “first black priest ordained in America.” [It should be noted, speaking of the “rules” of racial identity, that Charles Uncles and his parents were described as being light enough to pass for white.]

Indeed, at the time, it was big news. Here’s the New York Times headline from December 19, 1891:

The Times story noted:

The congregation gathered to witness and participate in ceremonies was more than usually large and included many of the best colored people of the city. A special reason for the presence of the latter was that the first man of their race to be ordained a priest in the United States and that he was to have that high honor bestowed upon him by the Cardinal Archbishop himself–the primate of episcopacy of the country.

Lorenzo and Annie Uncles were Catholics. They and their family attended Mass at St. Frances Xavier Church in Baltimore which was, as the New York Times put it, “a church for colored people, but from which whites were not excluded.”

As a young man, Charles was an altar boy at St. Frances Xavier. He graduated number one in his high school class. After that, he taught in the Baltimore County public schools until he was 25 years old. During this same period of time, he was being tutored by a priest from St. Joseph’s seminary (for black men only) in Baltimore. Finally in 1883, Charles Uncles went to St. Hyacinthe College in Quebec, graduating in 1888. Back in Baltimore he then entered St. Joseph’s seminary. But he applied to attend classes at St. Mary’s Seminary which was then for white men. The faculty of St. Mary’s put the matter to a vote of the seminarians. They were unanimously in favor of admitting Charles Uncles. And so it was that three years later, he was ordained a priest. He began teaching at the Epiphany Apostolic College, which was then located in Baltimore. In 1925, the college moved to New Windsor, New York, and Father Uncles moved also.

He died on July 20, 1933 at the college, and is buried there.

To put this subject in perspective, the following might be said:

1. James Augustine Healy (1875-1900), ordained in Paris in 1854 for the Diocese of Boston, was the first priest and the first bishop of African ancestry in the United States.

2. Augustine Tolton (1854-1897), ordained in Paris in 1886 for the Diocese of Alton, Illinois, was the first priest of acknowledged African slave ancestry in the United States.

3. Charles Randolph Uncles (1859-1933), ordained in Baltimore in 1891 for the Archdiocese of Baltimore, was the first priest of African ancestry to be ordained in the United States.

It was a cool, raw morning in Detroit. Some might call it “football weather”. Others might see it as a perfect morning for running and dancing in historic cemeteries. I know that might sound a bit odd, and in fact it looked a bit odd. But it was all in the name of honoring the dead.

This morning was the Run of the Dead which took place in southwest Detroit.

The Run is part of a 5-day Celebration of the Dia de los Muertos, or Day of the Dead. It is a holiday celebrated mainly in Mexico, and by people of Mexican heritage living in the United States and Canada. The holiday focuses on gatherings of family and friends to pray for and remember the relatives and loved ones who have passed away. Traditions include building private altars (ofrendas) honoring the deceased using sugar skulls, marigolds, and the favorite foods and beverages of the departed. Traditions also include visiting graves with these items as gifts. The Day is a Celebration of the lives of those we love, and a commitment to never forget them.

The 5K and 10K races wound through Holy Cross and Woodmere Cemeteries. Runners started at Patton Park and were encouraged to wear costumes and ribbons to honor the deceased. To cheer on the runners and add to the ambiance and honor, the Living Arts dance group put on a spectacular show.

In the beginning, the dancers hid behind the gravestones lining the main road through Holy Cross Catholic Cemetery.

As the first runners approached, the music began and the dancers sprang into action.

Not all of the runners were in costume, but many were. They were happy to see the dancers who danced beautifully and cheered them on.

Nobody seemed to mind the overcast skies and damp weather.

The dancers were joyful and carried on all the while the 800 runners went by.

The costumed runners put on quite a show for the folks who came to watch and honor their deceased loved ones.

And all the while…

… the dancers danced on!

Eventually the runners made their way around the loop through the cemetery and came back by the dancers on their way out of the cemetery. It was just at that time that the sun came out and cast a beautiful golden morning glow on the scene.

And then in a matter of minutes the runners left Holy Cross Cemetery, racing on to the finish line.

Most of those who came to watch the event, myself included, then made their way to the grave sites of their loved ones to visit and honor them. It really was an entertaining and poignant way to honor the deceased in these historic cemeteries.

It’s a time for remembering and honoring our ancestors and our Catholic faith.

Today would have been my parents’ 64th wedding anniversary. They celebrated nearly 53 years together before they passed away (Mom in 2000, Dad in 2005). They were married in my mother’s church: S.S. Peter & Paul Byzantine Catholic Church in Duquesne, PA. My father, a Roman Catholic and belonged to Holy Trinity (first in Duquesne, now in West Mifflin, PA). It wasn’t a simple “let’s go and get married”—because while both were “catholic” churches—there are differences (role of the Pope, language used during the church services, liturgical rituals, and treatment of doctrine). I’m not going to even attempt to explain them in this post. You can read more here. For an even more detailed explanation, see “What are the Differences between Orthodoxy and Roman Catholicism?” by Father Michael Azkoul.

John and Anna Alzo, October 14, 1947, Duquesne, PA. Image Privately held by Lisa A. Alzo

In order for mother and father to get married they had to obtain permission to marry in her church; my father’s priest had to approve. My mother told me she was afraid that the priest might not approve the marriage because he was old-fashioned in his beliefs and practices, but the approval was granted, with the understanding that after that day, my mother would follow her husband to the Roman Catholic Church, and when I came along I was baptized and raised Roman Catholic.

While growing up, I heard the terms “Greek Catholic” and “Roman Catholic” but to be honest there was never much of a focus on the differences. It wasn’t until I became interested in genealogy that I ever really paid much attention. Genealogists often consult church records for details about their ancestors, and as I did my research I uncovered some interesting information about my ancestors and the role religion played in their lives.

During my genealogical research, I also learned that my father’s parents experienced a similar situation with their marriage in 1915. They were also married in S.S. Peter and Paul Church. My grandmother, Elizabeth was also baptized Greek Catholic, but then followed my grandfather, John (Jan) to the Roman Catholic church, and their children were all raised in the Roman Catholic faith.

As I mentioned, my mother was baptized Greek Catholic; however her parents eventually left SS. Peter and Paul and joined St. Nicholas, the Russian Orthodox Church in Duquesne. While faith remained a large part of my grandmother’s life, my grandfather had some issues with church in general and eventually stopped attending, but that’s another story for a different post.

In remembering my parents today on their 64th anniversary, I reflect not so much on the differences between their two faiths, but rather on how their union was built on faith in God, love, mutual respect, and the commitment to teach their daughter by example.

Courtesy of The Robert and Theresa Halvey Collection, Philadelphia Archdiocesan Historical Research Center, Philadelphia, PA

This photograph, “Play Street,” was taken in 1972 at St. Columba parish in Philadelphia, PA. St. Columba, which closed in 1993, was formerly located at 2340 W. Lehigh Avenue. I’m sure these children have fond memories of the fun sisters who worked there! Photo is courtesy of The Robert and Theresa Halvey Collection, Philadelphia Archdiocesan Historical Research Center, Philadelphia, PA.

On this day, the Memorial of Our Lady of the Rosary (that resides within October, the Month of the Holy Rosary), The Catholic Gene takes a look at the centuries-old devotion that is making a resurgence in the lives of the faithful and may have played a role in the daily life of many of our Catholic ancestors’ families.

In her recent article, Full of Grace: Reclaiming the Rosary, Alice Camille, M. Div. gives a nice overview of the recent renewed interest in the Rosary and its value as a tool to “ponder the greatest events in salvation history” through the eyes of Mary, the young woman from Nazareth who watched them unfold before her. As explained on the Catholic Culture website, “The Rosary is a Christocentric setting forth of the entire life of Jesus Christ, the passion, death, resurrection and glory.”

The Rosary is a series of prayers repeated while those praying (individually or in a group) focus their thoughts on the various moments of joy, light, sorrow and glory during the life of Jesus and his mother Mary. The prayers are inspired by – and often taken word for word from – the Bible. In the rhythm of prayer that the Rosary creates, the faith-filled Catholic can take time within his or her day to rise from the duties and tasks of everyday life, and to find inspiration for living.

The Nativity: the third joyful mystery used for meditation during the Rosary*

It is a way of prayer that has been practiced by Catholics throughout the world for centuries. As far back as the 13th century, the Rosary was present within the church close to its current form, and was being promoted by religious orders such as the Dominicans, Franciscans, Cistercians and Servites. Since various family branches of my Eastern European ancestors lived in an area with a strong Franciscan influence, I have no doubt that the Rosary played a role in their faith lives for many generations. (More on the devotion to the Rosary within my family tree in an upcoming article later this month.) If you, too, have Catholic ancestors, chances are that this traditional way of prayer was a part of their lives, too.

The Hail Mary - a central part of the Rosary - printed here in the Croatian language*

During the 15th century as the Ottoman Empire was ravaging Eastern Europe (Constantinople had fallen to the Turks in 1453), devotion to the Rosary was growing throughout much of the continent. In the year 1569, Pope Pius V (a Dominican) first officially established devotion to the Rosary within the Catholic Church through the Consueverunt Romani Pontifices (this link provides an English summary of this document). Only two short years later in 1571, Catholic Europe found itself facing the wrath of the Ottoman Empire at a location too close for comfort – off the coast of western Greece. The Holy League – a coalition of Catholic states coordinated by Pope Pius V – took on the defense of Europe.

"The Battle of Lepanto" as depicted in the 17th century by Andries van Eertvelt

As the naval Battle of Lepanto raged, the faithful throughout all of Europe prayed the Rosary for victory at the request of Pope Pius V. Their prayers were answered and Catholic Europe was spared. The victory prevented the Muslim forces from taking complete control of the Mediterranean Sea and reaching further into the south of Europe. Rome and western Europe were saved from a devastating invasion by the Ottoman Turks.

In celebration and thanksgiving to God, Pope Pius V declared that October 7 would be remembered as the Memorial of Our Lady of Victory. Today the day is celebrated throughout the universal church as the Memorial of the Most Holy Rosary, and the month of October is dedicated to the Rosary.

If you think the Rosary might have played a role in the lives of your Catholic ancestors, you may be interested in reading more about the history of the devotion. John D. Miller’s book Beads and Prayers: The Rosary in History and Devotion is an interesting overview. The book places special emphasis within several chapters on the development of the Rosary within England and Ireland as well as continental Europe. His book also references an extensive online timeline of the Rosary’s history entitled Journaling the Bead by the Rosary Workshop.

The Hail Mary printed in Irish Gaelic script*

If you find, as I did, a reference in one of your ancestor’s obituaries to membership within the Confraternity of the Most Rosary or a similar society, you may be interested in looking into the history and activities of the organization. My great-grandmother, a member of the Mother Butler Society, hand-knotted Rosaries for many years to be sent to missions in other countries.

Lisa's beloved Grammy Ulaky and one of her handcrafted Rosaries

I am very happy to have inherited one of her Rosaries, and have enjoyed passing down her love for the devotion to my children. My daughters are following in their great-great-grandmother’s footsteps in a way. They use another technique – beading – to create beautiful Rosary bracelets, sharing the age old faith they have inherited with a new generation of faith-filled Catholics.

*The artistic ceramic panels depicting the mysteries and prayers of the Rosary were photographed on the grounds of the Franciscan Monastery of the Holy Sepulchre in Washington D.C. within the Rosary Portico, a beautiful covered walkway. If you’d like to know more about the monastery, visit my article here at The Catholic Gene entitled Ave Maria in the Languages of Our Ancestors.

As this week the Catholic church celebrates the Memorial of Our Lady of the Rosary and remembers the life of the beloved St. Francis of Assisi, I’d like to introduce you to a peaceful oasis in the midst of the nation’s capital that was built in St. Francis’ honor and includes the beautiful Rosary Portico. My family and I have enjoyed making several visits to the Franciscan Monastery of the Holy Land in Washington D.C. Its Rosary Portico is a picturesque covered walkway surrounding the glorious Memorial Church of the Holy Sepulchre. It was designed in the style of the cloister of St. John Lateran in Rome and St. Paul’s Outside the Walls.

The Franciscan Memorial Church of the Holy Sepulchre, finished in 1899, was modelled after the Hagia Sofia in Istanbul in the Byzantine style with modified Romanesque influences

It is a beautiful walk, surrounded by charming gardens, and made even more interesting by a series of mosaics depicting the mysteries of the Rosary and a string of Hail Marys and Our Fathers in a multitude of languages which accompany you as you follow the path around the church. The generous number of artistic ceramic panels depicting the prayers of the Rosary (their website says nearly 200 – I didn’t count them!) includes many of the world’s languages – both modern and ancient. I was thrilled to find the languages that were common to my various ancestral families – even Glagolitic, the most ancient of the Slavic languages.

If you’d like to browse through the Angelic Blessing (another name for the Hail Mary) in these many languages, and possibly search for the language of your ancestors, visit the monastery’s Ave Maria book online. You’ll find Anglo-Saxon to Zulu and everything in between.

If you are in the Washington D.C. area, I encourage you to take some time to make a visit to this beautiful oasis in the middle of the capital, take a peaceful walk, and search for the prayers in the languages of your ancestors.

One of my daughters taking a thoughtful stroll down the covered walkway at the Franciscan Monastery

Today we celebrate the Feast of St Francis D’Assisi. In honor of this occasion, and in conjunction with October being Polish Heritage Month, I bring you the story of St Francis D’Assisi Catholic Church in Detroit, Michigan.

St Francis D’Assisi Catholic Church was the 4th Polish parish to be organized in Detroit (following St Albertus (1872), St Casimir (1881), and Sweetest Heart of Mary (1897)). The Polish population in Detroit was growing rapidly in the late 1800s and through the turn of the century. As a result, several members of St Casimir parish petitioned the Diocese of Detroit for a new parish in the area of Junction and Buchanan streets. Their petition was granted and a pastor was appointed to organize a new parish.

St Francis’s first pastor, Reverend Romuald Byzewski, directed the building of the first structure on property purchased at Wesson and Buchanan streets. That building was a combination church (upper level) and school (lower level). The church sat 700 people and opening enrollment at the school was 300 pupils. The first Mass was celebrated in the church on Easter Sunday of 1890.

This building was the first church/school but is now used as a social hall.

The new little parish continued to grow and when Reverend Feliks Kieruj succeeded Rev. Byzewski as pastor of St Francis he conducted a drive for a new, larger church building. The new building was opened in June of 1905 and a grand church it was! The church seats 1700, has beautiful stained glass windows, and is Italian Renaissance in design. It is 230 feet long and 123 feet wide and cost $145,000.00 to build.

The drive to build the new church was so successful that Rev. Kieruj continued his effort and oversaw the building of a rectory, convent, and a parish hall. Later a new, larger school building was built.

Exterior of St Francis Church and Rectory

St Francis Grade School

St Francis Convent (courtesy of Google Street View)

Interior, St Francis Church

Main Altar, St Francis

Pulpit where sermons where preached before microphones were used.

One of several stained glass windows.

Round glass window the church is known for.

Large organ

As a result of all this building, the parish accumulated substantial debt. Father Alexander Grudzinski was successful in getting the debt paid off and as a reward for doing so the church of St Francis was consecrated on June 4, 1929. It was the first church consecrated in Michigan and only the fifth in the U.S. My mother always told me that a consecrated church cannot be added on to or sold. It must stand until it crumbles of its own accord. You can read details about church consecration at the Catholic Encyclopedia web site.

At the time St Francis Church was built, the neighborhood it was in was made up largely of Polish immigrants. They attended Mass there, sent their children to the parish school, and for the most part were buried in nearby Holy Cross Cemetery. Over the years, starting in the 1940s with the building of area expressways and accelerating in the 1960s and 70s, the original Polish immigrants died or moved out of the area to nearby suburbs. The population that moved in was first African American and later Hispanic. More recently the neighborhood has succumb to urban blight with more empty lots than houses. It’s a sad state for this once vibrant neighborhood of Polish immigrants. St Francis D’Assisi Church still stands at the corner of Wesson and Buchanan Streets and the parish is still viable. However, there are few with Polish heritage that attend this church anymore. Mostly the parish is made up of Hispanic residents now. They may hear Mass in a different language than those who built the church but they too work hard to keep the parish going. That’s not an easy task in a depressed urban setting.

The parish school is no longer in operation. The building was leased/sold to another group that runs the Hope of Detroit Academy there now.

I have many family ties to St Francis D’Assisi Church. My paternal grandparents lived just one block southwest from the church/school property. Here is a view from the property where my grandparent’s home once stood, looking back at St Francis school and church.

View of St Francis Church and school from 35th Street, courtesy of Google Street View

My father and all of my paternal aunts and uncles attended St Francis grade school. Several of my aunts and uncles married at St Francis as well. When my parents married, their first home was on Campbell Street, one block north of the church/school property. My brothers were baptized at St Francis and started grade school there as well before my family moved to the suburbs. Here is a view of the church/school grounds from my parent’s first house on Campbell Street.

View of St Francis Church complex from Campbell Street

I visit the church from time to time and try imagine what it must have been like in the 1910-1950 era when it was in a densely populated community of first and second generation Polish immigrants. It’s easy to imagine when inside the church, where little has changed. It’s much harder to imagine outside the church where empty lots and decaying buildings are prevalent. It is my fervent hope that the beautiful St Francis Church will remain standing for many, many years to come. Maybe one day the city of Detroit will experience a rebirth and the neighborhood around the church will thrive again. St Francis is the patron saint of animals and the environment. Perhaps he will bless the rebuilding of the neighborhood where previous residents erected a grand church in his honor.

The Souvenir book of the Golden Jubilee of St. Francis Parish, 1890-1940 has been cataloged and is searchable on the PGSA web site.

The following microfilms of St. Francis church records are available at the Burton Historical Collection of the Detroit Public Library: Film No.1042
Reel 1: Baptisms April 1891-June 1911
Reel 2: Baptisms June 1910-March 1918
Reel 3: Baptisms March 1918-February 1931
Marriages January 1916-October 1938
Deaths January 1920-May 1950
Reel 4: Marriages May 1891-1916

When I was a kid growing up, I used to watch The Flying Nun on television. Do you remember that show? It aired on the ABC network from 1967-1970. Sally Field starred as a novice nun who could “fly” as a result of her small stature and the rather large headgear for her habit. It was a sitcom and Sally Field who starred as Sister Bertrille got into all sorts of zany, comical situations along with her fellow sisters who all lived together in a convent in Puerto Rico. As a pre-teen/teenager back in those days it was a favorite show of mine. The nuns portrayed on that show were friendly, happy (mostly), devoted, kind, and always had a sense of humor. They were so very different from the nuns at our local Catholic church who were always stern, never smiled, kept to themselves, and by their presence alone struck fear in the hearts and minds of every child who attended grade school or catechism classes.

I knew that The Flying Nun show was not an honest depiction of convent life but I never understood why the nuns at our local church could not be a little more like the nuns on the show. I remember wondering if real nuns were trained to be “mean” (stern, non-smiling) or if the religious order only selected “mean” girls to become nuns. Such were the thoughts of my young and impressionable self.

Over the years, the Catholic church seems to have softened it’s rules on how nuns must behave because those I run across these days are for the most part closer to the nuns portrayed on The Flying Nun than the stern, reserved nuns I remember from my childhood. I’ve yet to come across any who can fly though.

Nuns on My Tree

Three years ago, I contacted some second cousins who I’d recently learned of. These cousins were related to me through their mother. They were kind enough to share with me their family photos and some stories about their family members. One photograph in their collection really stood out for me. It was a photo of these two very young, fresh-faced, beautiful women in nuns habits. These women, I was told, were their first cousins on their father’s side of the family. They were sisters of the Dominican Order and trained at the motherhouse in Adrian, Michigan.

I don’t really know much about these nuns but the date on the back of the photo suggests it was taken in 1960. The white habits they are wearing, I’ve come to learn, indicates they were novices at the time. So they would have been trained during the 1960s. But look, they’re smiling! Well, one is anyway. As I studied the photo a number of questions came to mind… What made them decide to join a religious order? How did they decide on the Dominican Order in particular? What must it have been like for these young girls to spend hours and hours a day in prayer? Were they “mean”? (Those childhood impressions are quite deep ;-) )

Nuns, Now and Then

Fast forward to August of this year. I’m reading a local newspaper and I come across an article about a local author, from Watervliet, Michigan who has just had her first book published. The book is titled, The Red Skirt: Memoirs of an Ex Nun. It turns out, the author, Patricia O’Donnell-Gibson, was once a member of the sisterhood of the Dominican Order trained at the motherhouse in Adrian, Michigan… in the 1960s no less! That makes her a contemporary of the angelic nuns in the picture above. While reading the article I immediately thought of that photo of the nuns, the first cousins of my second cousins. Wow, I thought, this book might give me some insight into their experience becoming nuns and choosing the Dominican Order. How cool is that? I had to read this book.

The only question was, paper or ebook? I opted for ebook and purchased the book the very next day.

Patricia O’Donnell-Gibson’s memoirs start when she was a child growing up in a devote Catholic family living in Dearborn Heights, Michigan. Now here’s another connection for me. I grew up in Dearborn, Michigan, the city right next door to Dearborn Heights. I was immediately familiar with the neighborhoods, churches, and the seminary she refers to her in book. While they were not exactly my old stomping grounds they might as well have been.

The story takes us through her grade school and high school years setting us up for her entry into the Dominican Order. While it doesn’t explain why the nuns on my family tree chose a religious life it does explain why she did. And her experience growing up in a strict Catholic family may have been quite similar to theirs. While I too grew up in a Catholic family, they weren’t as devout in keeping with the Catholic faith as the O’Donnell family.

Patricia entered the Dominican Order almost immediately after high school graduation. Her memoirs take us along as she enters the motherhouse, sheds her street clothes for her postulant habit and sheds her life as she knew it for a life unknown. I like that she shares not just what was happening to her along the way but what she was thinking and feeling as it was happening, including her fears and doubts. From there she tells of life as a postulate and as a novice with many poignant moments, some scary times, and a few comedic moments too. If like me you’ve ever wondered if nuns were trained to be “mean” or if they were chosen for characteristics befitting a stern, sober religious figure, you’ll get your answer in this book.

After Patricia finishes her novitiate year and becomes a professed sister she transitions back into a world you and I would recognize. She takes an assignment as a teacher, the position most Dominicans are trained for. After her coming of age story, touching on end-of-life issues, and many examinations of faith, Patricia’s story becomes less somber and much happier. Her decision to leave the religious life makes sense in the end and the final scene will have you grinning many times over.

I highly recommend this book. It’s easy reading for such a serious and somber topic. If you’ve ever wondered about the secret life of nuns… what they think of during prayer service, what they do for recreation, or what they wear under those habits, this is the book for you. After reading it myself, I now have some idea of what the nuns on my family tree went through in choosing the religious life. And now that I have some insight, I’ll never look at nuns the same way again.

In several upcoming posts in November, I’ll talk about the Oblate Sisters of Providence and how they play a role in my family tree. In St Louis, I found this photograph of Sister Mary Philomena (nee Emma Micheau) and Sister Mary Celestine (nee Adelaide “Addie” Francis Micheau). That’s Sister Philomena on the left and Sister Celestine is on the right. The woman in the middle is Mary Angelique Micheau (1873-1959), also known as “Nin.”

Addie and Nin were the daughters of George Micheau (1852-1942). Emma, the daughter of Marshall Emmanuel Micheau (1878-1954), was their niece.

Part I: Michigan’s Catholic Displaced Persons from Poland

Walking on the park like historic campus of St. Mary’s of Orchard Lake, Michigan, you’re more likely to think of having a picnic than of World War II. But here you will find The Polish Mission’s unique museums commemorating the struggle and celebrating the survival of the Catholic Polish spirit during World War II. Tomorrow, we welcome Rita Cosby to campus, author of Quiet Hero: Secrets from my Father’s Past. Her visit and story about her father’s survival as a Catholic World War II resistance fighter is a timely lecture during the month of September. It is a somber time of remembrance for Catholic Poles throughout the world: the anniversary of the Invasion of Poland by the Nazis (1 September) and Russians (17 September). Each year we will honor the brave men and woman who fought for freedom.

The museums were created by the Polish veterans who came to Michigan as Displaced Persons, living their adult lives in Wayne, Oakland, and Macomb counties. The museums, each with a small archive and library, document the Home Army, the Polish Army 2nd Corp, Polish Air Force, the First Polish Armored Division, Polish Army Veterans in America, and the Association of Former Political Prisoners of German and Soviet Concentration Camps. These museums hold survivor oral histories, art work, diaries, documents, photos, maps, uniforms and related ephemera.

The Michigan Humanities Council granted funding to The Polish Mission to develop a catalog for the general public and online lesson plans for middle and high School teachers. These exhibits, publications, and online tools serve to document the war experiences of the Catholic Polish soldiers, families, and survivors and help dispel the growing body of Holocaust revisionist literature which includes denying it happened or refusing to call the camps by the proper term “Nazi Concentration Camps in occupied Poland”. The grant work allows the museums to be shared with a wider community who, because of the Cold War and Iron Curtain, may be unaware of the deaths of 3 million Polish Christians at the hands of the Nazi and Russian armies. The museum collections transcend religion and speak of struggle and suffering as well as the hope for freedom and liberation. On a research trip to Poland with the Polish Mission Director Marcin Chumiecki, we met with museum curators and archivists who are maintaining similar collections of camp art, survivor art, and autobiographies and they await The Polish Mission’s online collections. <http://polishmission.com>.

As we prepare the catalog and exhibitions for digital display, the ancestry.com databases have helped document and help is tell a more complete history about these survivors.

What have we found? Here is a sample story that illustrates what we’ve located so far. On display in our Association of Former Political Prisoners of German and Soviet Concentration Camps (AFPPGSCC) museum hangs twelve paintings and drawings by Jan Komski. A trained artist from Krakow, he was captured by the Nazis as he crossed the border to join the Polish Free Army. His art kept him alive, drawing greeting cards and painting bourgeois landscapes for the Nazis’ and their girlfriends. Komski was assigned work duty the print shop, which gave him access to drawing materials. He and a few fellow inmates fooled the Nazis by painting credentials, staging a phony work detail, and walked out of the gates! Unfortunately, he was later recapture, and I was able to find him in two of the five camps he was an inmate. He was one was one of the 750 Polish prisoners who arrived at Auschwitz on June 14, 1940, the first day that the camp was opened. His card was obtained from the Archives of Auschwitz where he was listed with an alias (Baras) not uncommon for Polish underground soldiers. Note he gave the correct birth date.

The Auschwitz Museum holds 106 of Komski’s paintings. After coming to America, he became an illustrator for the Washington Post and he gave an interview for the 1973 the employees’ newsletter “Shop Talk” and said:

The reason I am doing these paintings is because I always thought it only destiny or providence that allowed me to live when I knew there were tens of thousands of people who died there. . . . I wanted to do something to show the misery.